Who Knew a Gym Coupon Could End a Marriage?

My wife's gym is celebrating its grand opening, and I drag my buddy along to check the place out with a 9.90-dollar trial class I bought through an e-commerce platform. For the entire time, I never once let it slip that I'm the owner.

Right after we finish training, a male coach tosses a price sheet at us. His eyes sweep over us with contempt as he says, "You two look like freeloaders. Our private sessions cost a few hundred each, and we don't offer freebies to people like you."

I let out a disbelieving laugh. "We paid for this trial class. How is that freeloading? Go get your manager."

He rolls his eyes and makes it seem like he's enforcing a very important rule. "Don't bother looking for the manager. My girlfriend owns this place, and she hates broke losers who try to get free classes."

He dials her number right in front of us. His voice sounds both arrogant and pitiful. "Babe, two guys showed up and tried to con us into giving them a free class. They even told me to call the manager. Come over here and show them what's what!"

"Did you hear that? My girlfriend is on her way," Andrew Shepherd sneered. His eyes were full of contempt. "I'm warning you, freeloaders. Start thinking about whether you want to apologize or get thrown out."

Michael Guerra's face flushed bright red with anger as he yelled, "Watch your goddamn mouth! Who are you calling freeloaders? We paid for the class. How is that freeloading? Is this how you talk to customers? Are you trying to get your gym shut down?"

Andrew folded his arms and laughed. His voice was sharp with mockery. "Wow, everyone, look over here. They got mad because I called them out, and now they're snapping at me like rabid dogs. What? Did I hit a nerve? Look at you two. Do you even have 500 dollars between you?

"And you're pretending to be rich kids? Real rich kids don't bother coming in here panting like dogs for a 9.90-dollar trial class."

He curled his lip in disgust. "I can tell you're nobodies who just want to take a few muscle-flexing photos at a fancy gym to post on your social media, hoping you'll be able to snag yourselves some rich women. Too bad for you. The women here have eyes as sharp as blades. They can spot cheap trash like you in a second."

"You!" Michael's chest rose and fell in fury as he tried to rush forward to argue.

I held him back, but my eyes were cold. "Judging from how experienced you sound, I'm guessing you rely on this same trick every day to reel in rich women."

Andrew smirked proudly. "It isn't that easy to snag a rich woman. You need to have something to show. You two are as skinny as a bean pole. No matter how hard you try, it won't happen. Me? I'm built, and I already got the perfect woman hooked. She even started this entire gym just for me.

"I've already called her. When she gets here, you two broke toads can take a good look at the rich woman I landed."

"Great," I said. "Have her hurry up. I really want to see what kind of rich woman would fall for someone like you."

His expression darkened, and he snorted. "Jealous? My girlfriend will be here any minute. You two can open your damn eyes and finally learn what a real rich woman looks like. Maybe then you'll give up on your stupid fantasies."

Michael suddenly tore his arm from my grasp, pulled out his phone, opened his chatting app, and shoved the screen in Andrew's face.

"Look closely. You think I need to chase rich women? The people lining up to date me could wrap around the world three times. My wife alone could beat your so-called rich woman. What the hell are you compared to her?"

His contact list showed names like "Mr. Wilbur of Wilbur Corp", "Director Leedon's Daughter", and "Best New Actress". Every name was more glamorous than the last.

Pinned at the very top was a contact labeled "My Dear Wife", and the profile picture clearly belonged to Juliana Pearson, the CEO of Halvea's Pearson Group.

Andrew's face twisted, and he slapped Michael's phone out of his hand. It hit the floor and shattered instantly.

"Are you insane?" Michael roared, his eyes reddening.

"You're the ones who are out of your minds!" Andrew howled. "You changed your contacts to fake being rich. Anyone can edit a contact name!

"Not only are you pretending to be wealthy, but you're also a player with a dozen backup lovers on your phone. How utterly shameless! Those rich women probably used you up and tossed you aside already."

The receptionist, Freddie Irvin, pulled out his phone, opened a livestream, and pointed the camera at us.

"Come check this out, everyone! We've got two clowns in the gym today. They snuck in with a 9.90-dollar trial class, got exposed by Mr. Shepherd for trying to snag a rich woman, and now they're attacking people. Their contact lists are full of lovers. They're total players!"

As he spoke, he shoved the camera closer to our faces. "Come take a look at what they really look like!"

I shoved Michael behind me, shouting, "You're violating our rights and privacy! Turn off that livestream! If you don't, I swear I'll call the police and have lawyers shut this place down."